I, Soldier
by KiaraAlexisKlay
Summary: Roswell, Dark Angel Polar Crossover. Language abounds. Need I say more?
1. Chapter 1

A/N 1: I originally posted this in the drabble thread in Polar Stories but I feel it deserves it's own little space, hehe. I hope you enjoy.

Part 1 of the _I, Soldier_ series! I might come up with a better title later, lol.

Title: Hesitate  
Author: Kristin aka KiaraAlexisKlay  
Disclaimer: Roswell belongs to Katims and Metz: Dark Angel belongs to Cameron and Eglee.  
Genre: Prompt  
Category: Drabble and Crossover with _Dark Angel_  
Rating: MATURE to be safe

Prompt#22 - Hesitate -

"Parker, hurry up! I want to go home and catch the game! Let's go!"

There was no answer, not surprising, and Michael growled in frustration. If it wasn't Max, it was Maria, or anything else in his screwed up existence. He did not want to have to deal with brainy perfect Lizzie Parker not doing her fair share.

Michael was just about ready to bellow for Parker to hurry up when a tremendous crash from the diner proper had him rushing through the double doors. His eyes quickly flickered over the scene, and he felt his blood run cold. The busboy full of dirty dishes was sprawled across the floor, shattered dishes littering the area around it. And there, in the center of it all, was Liz Parker, spasming like crazy.

"Liz! Liz," Michael reached over and froze as she literally _hissed_ at him.

"M-Mi-Michael...g-go away," she ground out, already struggling to get up and move away from him and the mess her spasms had made.

"Liz," Michael ground out helplessly, watching as another tremor hit and Liz crashed back to the linoleum.

"That's it, c'mere," Michael reached over and hauled Liz off the ground, shifting his body to accomodate her undulating body. Carefully, he carried her to the break room, setting her on the couch and pulling away. Just in time, Liz's eyes rolled to show the whites and she screamed as her back arched off the cushions, her body rigid with pain.

"I'm calling Max," Michael was already reaching for the extension on the wall when Liz's frantic "NO!" halted him.

"Liz," he began.

"Fuck it, Michael, listen to me! Do NOT call Max, understand?"

Michael's eyes widened, he didn't know which shocked him more: Liz's use of 'adult' language or the firm, commanding, and surprisingly strong tone in which she'd addressed him.

"Well damnit Parker, what can I do?"

"Pills."

"What?"

"My m-medicine," Liz grit her teeth against the pain and the betrayl of her body, her will the only thing keeping her from curling into a ball and crying the agony away.

"Medicine! Great, where?"

In a voice that trembled with each word, Liz told him where her emergency stash was located, and fortunately it was nearby. Michael watched with unfamiliar anxiousness as Liz downed what seemed to him to be an enormous of amount of the innocous looking pills, they looked like some of those herbs that Maria was always trying to get him and everyone else to take.

He cussed softly but vehemently under his breath as he waited impatiently for the pills to take affect, growling as each minute passed by that Liz still shook and whimpered. Sweat had drenched her hair into twisted strands on her forehead, and her breathing labored as she literally fought for each breath, trying not to swallow her tongue as she shook, rattled, and writhed on the couch.

"Michael, just...go clean up the front, it'll take a bit for the pills to kick in. Go."

It gave him something to do, and Michael found he couldn't take seeing Liz so weak. Liz was never weak. Liz was strong, she didn't take shit from anybody...except maybe Max. A wave of his hand and the dishes were resurrected in a way to make the King's men and horses jealous, and it wasn't long before he was back with his trembling friend.

Finally - finally!- her shaking form wasn't so jerky and it seemed as if they were passing. Occassionally there was a brief flare up of tremors, but for the most part, Michael could tell that whatever the hell this was, it was passing and almost through.

Liz groaned, holding her head, and with a muttered but heartfelt thank you to Michael, she made her way slowly up the stairs to her apartment, pill bottle firmly in hand.

Michael paused, staring up at her slow moving form, wrestling about with what he should do and what he could do, and then came to a decision. Parker was not going to get away with this stunt that easily. Telling himself he was just making sure she was okay so he wouldn't hear about it from Max and Maria, he followed her up the stairs and into her room.

It felt weird being in Parker's room period, even more so that the elder Parkers were absent on one of their usual convention run.

Liz was so tired, exhausted mentally and physically, she didn't even bother taking shoes or garments off, she just collapsed into bed. Michael hesitated only the briefest of moments before coming over and taking off her shoes, slipping her legs under the covers and pulling the blanket up over her lightly trembling body, taking care of her skin, realizing it was overly sensitised after hearing her soft hiss of pain at his light touch.

Her breathing was just easing out, too tired to deal with Michael and his unnervingly intense, probing stare, when she felt the bed dip under his weight. A heavy silence ensued, and Liz closed her eyes, not just from the pain. She was waiting, and Michael didn't disappoint.

"So what was that all about, Parker? Something not right in that brain of yours," he tried to joke.

"As a matter of fact, that's exactly what's wrong. My body doesn't produce enough of a chemical called serotonin and it causes the seizures...I haven't had them since the day that Max...that Max healed me, when I was shot," she admitted, painfully aware of a time in her life she hated.

A time when she was weak.

Prey.

And Liz Parker was never anyone's prey, ever.

"Oh. But that's not all, is it Parker?"

"Damn you for being so fucking observant, Guerin," Liz moaned, inwardly smacking her head against a wall.

"And that's another thing. Since when are you a graduate of Guerin Speak 101?" he prompted, lightly teasing to get rid of the tension in the room his not-so-innocent question had produced.

"Who says that you influenced me? I could have just been hiding it under illusion," she quipped.

"So tell me oh great magician, what's your secret? You know mine."

Liz hesitated, debating the question of whether or not to tell Michael, something she'd been wrestling with ever since she'd learned the alien's secret. But Michael wasn't everybody, or even just anybody, and out of them all she felt he might even be the only one who could truly understand her position and what she was going through.

Grunting with slight pain, Liz turned over to lay on her back and turn her head to look at the scuffy man-child sitting on the edge of her bed.

"Fine...but come over here, I'm too tired to speak up."

Liz shifted only slightly as Michael crept over to lean up against the headboard, helping to prop her up.

"Okay...first off, my name hasn't always been Liz Parker, not before Jeff and Nancy adopted me."

"Whoa, wait! You were adopted?"

"Kinda," Liz smirked. "Now shut the hell up and let me get on. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," a cocked eyebrow and curved lips greeted her, and she rolled her eyes.

"Good. My name was Jondy, and I grew up in a little place called Manticore..."

TBC...?


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Destroy, Prompt #23  
Author: Kristin aka KiaraAlexisKlay  
Disclaimer: _Roswell_ is not mine, it belongs to Metz originally before Katims created the show..._Dark Angel_ belongs to Cameron and Eglee, Fox, SciFi, and a whole slew of others I don't know.  
Category: Prompt, Crossover _Dark Angel_  
Rating: MATURE  
Synopsis: Sequel to _Hesitate_

Prompt #23 DESTROY

* * *

**CRACK!**

An innocent cacti exploded into thousands of melting pieces, fueled by the rage of the man-child shadowed under the moon and starlight. Waving a hand almost casually, a reddish-orange shield flicked briefly to life, long enough to repel any debris flying his way.

It was not enough. Not nearly enough.

Golden eyes narrowed and with a grimace that settled into a firm, clenched line, that rage, the helplessness, the utter horror of what he'd heard was focused on releasing the pent up emotion and energy. Channeling all the emotion in one big ball deep in his gut, Michael flung his hand out and heard a satisfied **BOOM** as one after the other the line of semi-distant boulders exploded into fine gravel and dust in the wake of feeling.

Exhausted, the night's events and revelations had him collapsing to the desert floor, the sand, clay, and dirt mix a familiar friend and turning to mud as tears he was unaware of tracked down his face in time to the sobs heaving out of his lungs.

_My name was Jondy, and I grew up in a little place called Manticore..._

Those words and what Liz -Jondy- no, Liz, had told him afterword still rolled around in his brain even hours afterward. He couldn't believe it, _wouldn't_ believe it, at first.

Genetically engineered childern by way of recombient animal and human DNA spliced together to create the ultimate in biological technological supersoldier technology was simply put unbelievable...and he was the re-incarnated hybrid of an alien warlord of a world in a galaxy billions of light-years from Earth.

He had to admit, it was a little farfetched.

C'mon...Little Lizzie Parker a killing machine? A trained soldier since conception, who had enhanced strength, speed, stamina, and smarts? Well, the smarts he could conceede, but the rest of it? No way...not even _Maria_ could come up with shit like this.

And he didn't believe, until she showed him. Vulnerable and more than a little frustrated with his lack of belief in her tale and the seizure episode, she'd challenged him to let his guard down enough to see. She offered him a chance to know the truth, dared him, and damn bitch knew how to push his buttons, knew how he'd react to the gauntlett she'd thrown down.

Closing his eyes, Michael's mind replayed everything that had happened in excrutiating detail...

* * *

"C'mon, Michael, it's not like you've never kissed anyone before," Liz rolled her eyes in mock disgust, the hint of a pout twitching about her lips.

"Anyone was not you," he'd snapped, still trying to find a way to get out of the situation, and cursing himself for that small part that didn't want to get out of this. The stupid part that wanted to know it all, to see if it might be true.

"Fine," Liz huffed, crossing her arms and fairly sagging against the headboard, scowling at him in a move that he recognized as one of his own arsenal.

"Fine," he snarled back.

She looked adorable pouting and where the hell did that thought come from? Debating for a moment, staring at Liz's profile, he was startled to find himself drawn to the fire blazing in those topaz depths.

"Chickenshit."

"What?!" Michael's eyebrows nearly flew into his hairline as he'd gaped at the tiny woman-child curled on her bed. Not even an hour and half ago he'd held her spasming body close to his, carrying her to the relative safety of the breakroom couch, and relieving her pain by fetching her medicine.

"You heard me. Chickenshit. Michael Guerin is chickenshit scared of not being the only freak in town."

Yet here she was, hair askew and her body partly swathed in the covers from her bed, he was startled to find this wasn't the mousy, meek Lizzie Parker he'd taken for granted. Her head was held high, her chin raised defiantly, and her back was straight even against the headboard. There was confidence and an unyielding strength and resolve in her posture, no hint of the weakness, meekness, or nervousness he'd come to associate with her.

The change was amazing and Michael began to believe, just for a moment, that maybe, maybe this cockamamie story of hers might be true and not a delusion of her seizures.

"I'm no chickenshit coward," he gritted out, angry. Angry at the implication, angry that he'd let her rile him without her even raising her voice, and angry that he _wanted_ to prove to her he wasn't chicken.

"Never said you were a coward. Just chickenshit," she'd sneered, goaded him. If he was thinking straighter, he'd recognize another one of his tactics, but at the moment he wasn't appreciative of it at all.

"I'm not that either," he ground out coldly, stonewall falling into place.

"Prove it," she'd clipped back, face completely blanking out in a mask void of emotion, veiling her eyes of any and every emotion, and Michael hissed -not gasped, he'd never do something so girly.

Liz Parker was known through her eyes. Anything and everything you wanted to know was in her eyes. These eyes were blank, cold...almost dead. That wasn't Liz.

_That's Jondy...no, X5-210,_ the chill ran up his spine.

"I will."

Taking the few steps separating them, he slid back onto the bed to where she waited, one of her brows arched in challenge and Michael swore he saw the vaguest glimmer of amusement in those dark depths, before her tongue flicked out to wet her lips in preparation.

"Max is going to kill me," he muttered, closing his eyes. "Then Maria will voodoo me alive and kill me again, slowly, painfully."

"No shit," Liz snorted in agreement.

"Okay...just a kiss. A small, innocuous..."

"Interrogative," Liz smirked.

"Kiss."

Liz nodded again.

Michael closed his eyes again, gathering himself. He never even let Maria see anything, and flashes went both ways. He wasn't sure he wanted to leave himself so open...because if anyone could find a way past his defenses, he was sure Liz Parker or whatever the hell she called herself would be sure to find it.

"You don't have to, you know. If you don't believe me than...well, then you're that's your problem and a fucking hypocrite, but..."

Whatever else she would have said was cut off as Michael brought his mouth against hers, teeth clacking togehter at the abruptness of the move. He pulled back slightly and the kiss became softer, not quite gentle, he was too aggressive for that. But what surprised - and pleased - him was that Liz responded with just as much fervor.

A growl raised in her throat as he pushed his tongue uninvited into her mouth to duel with her own. It was at that moment, as her body curved to mold into his own, as he pressed her against the wall, her hands gripping his shoulder and tangled in his hair for support that they came.

The flashes that was.

_Cold. Fear. Pain. MANTICORE._

_Naked skin exposed to chilly night air...ALONE. Pain. Why was there no one there?_

_Children standing at attention in line. Children sparring. Weapons firing, pain, blood, scared, hate. ESCAPE!_

By the time Michael pulled back, gasping for air, he knew that the flashes were complete. He was shocked, awed, and more than a little scared out of his green celled blood that Liz had completely opened herself to him, no holds barred.

He knew what she felt, how she had struggled with the decision on whether or not to let the aliens in on her secret...how scared she felt and surprisingly, how jealous she was of the aliens. Not of their powers - hello, genetically empowered supersoldier - but of their connection, their togetherness. He now understood why she would get so frustrated and fed up with the group for they were a group, they had each other to fall back on and to be themselves with no fear of reprisal.

She was alone.

A cat without her pard, a wolf without her pack, a raptor without her clan, a soldier without her unit...she'd grown up with brothers and sisters, the only ones who had loved her unconditionally, and she was separated. Only memories of being together, and some of seeing and hearing some of those same brothers and sisters die, not knowing if there were any others like her...was she the only one of her unit, her pack left?

Liz the only child, Jondy the joker, X5-210 the soldier...jealous of the hybrids and the family unit they had. He knew her, everything about her, more than anything he'd read in that damn journal, more than Max knew for she had kept this part of herself away from him, scared.

It was too much. Especially since he knew that the connection had went both ways.

Liz's eyes slowly fluttered open and the two locked eyes, staring, and sharing a moment of perfect clarity and understanding. She knew. He knew.

Without another word, he eased up off the bed, never breaking eye contact until he gently shut her door, and made his way in a daze, absently locking the door behind him as he left.

* * *

And that's how he came to be here, in his refuge of the great desert expanse, his one peace in the world, blowing things up.

He was scared. He was furious. He was so damn vulnerable, and most of all, what he hated, was he was hopeful.

Hopeful that finally there was someone who could and would and did understand him, and what he went through, experienced, is going through now. And she was his best friend's love interest, and his sometime girlfriend's best friend.

The cactus and the boulders weren't the only thing that were destroyed today. Lines had been crossed, erased and blown up in the course of a few hours and it would never be the same.

Not when he had the image of a shorn haired, doe eyed child in fatigues and face paint, staring in awe at a red balloon, having never seen one before. Not when he still felt her horror and grief and despair and cold will to go on, to survive, as brothers and sisters fell to training or those who were supposed to take care of them.

Especially not when he had the taste of her in his mouth, the feel of her lips soft and compliant, yielding and taking at the same time, the image of her eyes closed in the pure enjoyment of the moment and sensation.

Good deity in the universe.

He was so destroyed.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Follow  
Author: Kristin aka KiaraAlexisKlay  
Disclaimer: _Roswell_ belongs to Metz and Katims, _Dark Angel_ belongs to Cameron and Eglee.  
Category: Prompt #24- New Drabble thread, Crossover  
Synopsis: Follow the leader.  
Rating: MATURE

* * *

Prompt #24 - FOLLOW -

* * *

"Stalking's illegal y'know, even post-Pulse," the dry voice was faintly amused. _Very_ faintly amused.

"So is planning arson," he smirked, and it grew into a small smile at the inelegant snort that was his statement's reply.

"And you would know what I'm planning because?" she quirked an eyebrow at him.

"I'd do the same."

"And you were stalking me because?"

"Max isn't here to do it," he grinned.

He should have known she'd known he was tailing her. Since coming clean to him on that fateful night, she was unafraid to show her true capabilities when they were by themselves.

"Michael," she hissed with a frustrated sigh ending in a faint growl, the small figure stepped out of the shadows and joined Michael in the poor light of the filling station.

She wouldn't smile, damnit, no matter how cute his smile was. And did she just think that?

"Liz. Or are you going by Jondy now?"

Such a stop was intentional, he realized, as he remembered that with the shark in her DNA she could go _days_ without sleep, although even a transgenic would have to take a break from riding on a motorcycle for hours on end.

"You going by Rath?" she asked pointedly, irritably, and Michael nodded, conceeding her point.

"What are you doing here?"

"Could say the same for you, sweetheart," the endearment slipped off his tongue before he could catch it, and Liz's brows raised in question.

There was a charged silence for a moment, as Liz held his gaze for what seemed like an eternity, before the tough bitch eased off her face and softened into the Liz he knew best.

"Zack needs me," was all she said and that was enough.

The call of duty, the binding of 'family' that was family only in shared history and creation, the desire to find something, _any_ purpose to make her existence seem worthwhile.

He understood it all.

"Max would say that too," he threw out casually, inwardly thrilled at seeing that dangerous flash of her eyes, that darkening that foretold the storm and temper.

"Max could kiss my ass and fly off to the mothership in his big ears for all I give a damn about that," she hissed, the pain of Max's 'destiny' and the little blond gerbil who'd forced herself into what had been Liz's rightful place still fresh.

Lizzie Parker might have taken that meekly but since he'd awakened the inner kitty, Jondy wasn't putting up with it.

Michael chuckled, and Liz scowled at him briefly, before giving a grudging _hmph_ and shoving past him to her waiting baby while Michael followed at a more leisurely pace, admiring leather encased curves and the metal adornments.

Liz sure knew how to pick a good motorcylce, he grinned to himself. He watched as she cooed to her rebuilt Harley with enough jury-rigging to make a state trooper pee on himself in ecstasy. Similar to his own but much smaller and more suitable to her much more tinier frame, she proved she knew how to handle all that horsepower under her legs.

"Don't you want to know why I'm here?" he goaded, unable to help himself as he mounted his own hog, fairly purring in delight as his baby roared to life in challenge to her own.

"Do I really want to know?" she quirked her lips and Michael laughed out loud.

"Probably not."

"Don't matter to me. It's a free country, do what you want, no one can tell you what to do, not even Max or Tess."

Even though she was pissed at him, Liz couldn't help but feel a kinship to the scruffy alien and they shared a grin of complete accord.

"So...you mind if I tag along?"

"Michael..."

"Liz, I'm not going to let you face this alone. I've seen what it does to you and I want to make sure you come back in one piece."

"I won't be alone, my brother and sister will be there with me," she snarled back, frustrated again. Blue Lady, why was he being so difficult? Why was he pursuing this so hard? "Shouldn't you be taking care of your own?"

Michael felt the sting of her words but when had he ever let that stop him?

"They'll be fine with Valenti, and Isabel won't let Max do anything stupid while I'm gone, you can bet on that. But whether or not you like it Parker, I'm coming along for the ride." 

_Besides,_you_ need me,_ he finished silently.

"Fine! Don't cry to me if you can't keep up."

With that parting shot, Liz took off, and as he found himself doing more and more lately, Michael followed.


End file.
